An unfortunate event led me to meet a hippie chick as a blind date. I was half-heartedly listening to her spout off the many ways she was thrifty as avid recycler and a freegan who rummaged through back alleys for clothing and used the Mooncup Menstrual Cup (blagh!). The world stood still for me when she said she did not use toilet paper. Instead, she used rags and washed them for reuse.
—Joshua
Aftermath: She sent emails, but I blew her off.
I dated this girl for about a month. Very nice, great body, a sweet girl. I was watching the TV late one night and started watching the dog show comedy “Best in Show.” My new girl looked way too much like the rich, lesbian, dog-owner lady. Way too much like her. Disturbing! That was it, that was all I would see from then on.
—Scott
Aftermath: I couldn’t even look at her anymore . I told her it was over a nicely as I could about a week later.
He gave me a mix tape with some retarded Boyz II Men song on it because all girls like Boyz II Men. Then he put on “Don’t Cry” by Guns n’ Roses but apologized, on the tape, because it might be too heavy. I thought, “Does this guy does know me at all?” I think he would have spontaneously combusted if I told him I wished he put the Violent Femmes on it instead.
—Cindy
Aftermath: He went back to where he came from across the country and, thank god, things fizzled on their own.
When after he took a shower and shaved, etc…I thought he smelled only of chemicals, and it made me puke a little.
—CC
Aftermath: We divorced 2 years later.
This guy was painfully shy around me, never spoke; he could only write letters and send mix tapes full of R.E.M. to express himself. He was intense, artistic, mysterious, and pretty cute—so I tried to make something work. One night, we had a drink and went for a walk. He started to talk, open up, then stumble around and fall down. Then declared that he loved me. He was so drunk, I had to carry him home and put him to bed. I guess the only way we could converse was if he was smashed.
—Sasha
Aftermath: We never spoke of that night. In fact, we never spoke again. Technically, we weren’t even dating, as that supposes a two way street of shared experiences—and there was nothing but awkward silence.
